One More for the Road
by Flaignhan
Summary: Vegas. 1962. Rat Pack Live. It had sounded like a good evening, and it was, eventually. [Set between Family of Blood and Blink]
1. Part One

**One More for the Road.**

**by Flaignhan.**

* * *

Part One.

"So, where next?" Martha asked, circling around the console so she could peer over the Doctor's shoulder at the monitor, even though she couldn't understand the circular patterns on it. He leaned over the controls and tweaked a button. Out of sight speakers sprang into life instantly and the Doctor let out a short bark of ecstatic laughter.

It took Martha a few moments but she soon recognised the sounds of 'Beyond the Sea'and smiled at the Doctor. "What d'you reckon?" he asked, "Vegas, 1962? Rat Pack, Live?" Martha's jaw dropped.

"You serious?"

"Of course I'm serious! You up for it?"

"Yeah! But -" she stopped, her face falling. "Sixties America, I probably won't be able to get in, will I?" The Doctor frowned. He'd noticed that Martha had become a lot more sensitive about her skin colour since their little stint in 1913 and he didn't like it one bit.

"Nonsense! What about Sammy Davis Jr?"

"Yeah but he's the one that's earning the clubs money so I think they'd relax it a bit if he's earning them some dosh."

"Rubbish! Frankie and the boys wouldn't play in places that enforced segregation, you'll be fine! Besides, no one can mess with Martha Jones and get away with it, can they?" Martha's smile returned to her face ever so slightly.

"Come and have a go if you think you're hard enough," she said confidently.

"That's the spirit! Now go and get changed, we can't go to Vegas looking like we've just fallen in a pit of Venusian slime, can we?"

"We _did_ fall in a pit of Venusian slime," Martha reminded him as she made her way up the stairs. He grinned delightedly and she shook her head before disappearing down the corridor.

* * *

"Miss Jones," he held out his arm and she looped her own arm through his. 

"Mr Smith," she said, smiling at him. He opened the doors and they stepped out into an alleyway. Martha wrinkled her nose at the smell of various unpleasant things and walked with the Doctor out into the main street. She had to blink a few times before her eyes could take the intensity of the bright flashing lights, each spelling a different name of a different casino or hotel or performers that were playing that evening. In the largest letters of all, Martha could clearly see The Rat Pack being advertised and she and the Doctor began to walk towards the sign.

With a quick flash of the psychic paper, they were inside. People were milling around, drinks in hand, holding onto their partners, all anxiously awaiting the evening's performance. "How long till they come on?" Martha asked curiously, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Oh, about half an hour," the Doctor answered, pulling at his collar irritably. "I hate bow ties, I really do."

"Well it's only for this evening, so just _leave it be_," she slapped his hand away from his tie which he was about to undo and he glared at her indignantly. "Honestly, you're nine hundred years old, so act like it!" The Doctor huffed, obviously not impressed with this treatment but ignored it nonetheless. "I still can't get used to this," Martha said after a moment, looking around the room gleefully. "I mean, just _look_ at it! It's so..."

"Realistic?" the Doctor suggested.

"Yeah! It's just like in all the films! My Nan didn't like the Ocean's Eleven remake. Said it was a shoddy piece of work leeching off the talent of the original Rat Pack." The Doctor smiled and they made their way over to the bar. He pulled a wallet out of his jacket pocket and produced some old American dollars, earning himself an impressed look from Martha.

"Not completely clueless, am I?" he said a few minutes later, sipping at a generous shot of scotch.

"Not completely, no. Relatively, but not completely."

"Oi! You can get your own wine next time!"

"Ssh!" Martha said excitedly, tapping him on the arm even though she already had his attention and gesturing towards the stage. Five men had appeared and people were cheering them, the men bowing and waving away their applause with broad smiles on their faces. Martha fiddled with the strap of her beaded bag which was hung over one shoulder and the Doctor leaned over to speak to her.

"Joey Bishop, Sammy Davis Jr, Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Peter Lawford," the Doctor murmured into Martha's ear. "Lawford's going to leave at the end of this year, political differences and so on."

"Why do political differences matter?" Martha asked curiously. "My mate Gemma says she wouldn't vote for Saxon in a million years, but I'm going to and we're still friends, even though she's a bit weird. Doesn't like technology. No telly, no laptop, none of that."

"It's bigger than that though. Sinatra's tied in with the Mafia and Lawford is JFK's brother-in-law. It's not just a difference of opinion, it's much bigger than that – oh, I love this one! Mack the Knife! What a beauty!"

Martha had been so intent on listening to the Doctor's explanation that she hadn't realised that the music had started and people were beginning to dance. The Doctor took Martha's drink from her and set it down on a table with his own, before he led her to the dance floor. Martha was pleasantly surprised by the Doctor's ability to dance, and she told him so.

"Well, I've been kicking around for a while, must have learned to dance at some point," he told her as he twirled her around, her scarlet dress fanning out around her, and then stumbled as a couple barged past the Doctor, knocking him into her. "Oi!" he called after the couple, but they didn't seem to hear his annoyance, because they had already disappeared into the crowd. "You all right?" he asked Martha, who was holding onto him with one hand as she stood on one leg, adjusting her shoe so it was more comfortable.

"Yeah," she replied, untruthfully, "these heels are already bad enough without people trying to _help_ them break your ankle." The Doctor glanced momentarily at his black Converse and held back a comment about wearing sensible shoes. Martha _did_ look nice after all, and he doubted a pair of Converse would have had the same effect as the heels did, but all the same, she didn't have to choose heels _that_ high.

"D'you wanna sit down?" Martha shook her head.

"I'll be all right," Martha answered, glaring through the crowd, trying to find the couple who had caused the interruption in their dancing. The glare disappeared as soon as the next song started up. "New York, New York," she said fondly, "I wonder how Lazlo and Tallulah are."

"Wonderful, I imagine. Fingers crossed that no mutant pig slaves turn up here tonight." Martha grinned as they began to dance again, and soon she forgot about the ache in her ankle and lost herself in the dancing. She laughed loudly when 'Have you met Miss Jones' started up, and she barely had time to breathe after their energetic dance to 'Ain't that a Kick in the Head'.

It was only when they slowed down to dance to 'They Can't Take That Away From Me' that she was able to take a good look at the Rat Pack. She frowned as she watched them over the Doctor's shoulder, and something unsettled her about them. Their eyes seemed to be slightly out of focus, as though they weren't quite there. She nudged the Doctor and nodded towards them. They turned around on the spot, so as not to make it too obvious that they were staring and he watched them carefully.

"It looks like the lights are on but no one's at home, doesn't it?" Martha commented, looking up at the Doctor as she waited for an answer. When he didn't answer, she joked, "maybe it's the rock 'n' roll lifestyle."

"Maybe," he said at last, tearing his eyes away but still looking preoccupied.

* * *

Martha wandered towards the bathroom, feeling tired yet content. This was what she had signed up for when she had stepped into the Tardis. Travelling to times that people she knew could only dream about, enjoying the delights that the past had to offer, savouring the small taster that she got of events that were still to come. Not that she minded the saving of worlds and the running, but it was nice for a change to have an enjoyable evening with some good music and a bit of dancing. 

She went through the first door and heard a conversation drift through the crack between the second door and its frame. Frowning, she moved closer, careful to keep quiet as she listened hard to what they were saying.

"Alpha One says we shall be gone before the close of the decade. I for one am anxious to leave this place; the human form is so primitive."

"Be patient, Delta Four. Our plan shall run smoothly and we shall leave this rock soon enough."

"Gamma Six said there were humans in the house tonight who have not yet been...liberated."

"Well, we shall have to see to that. We can't have them leaving here with any suspicions. The Entertainers will draw a lot of attention should anyone suspect anything unusual about them."

Martha didn't notice the door open behind her, but turned around quickly when somebody cleared their throat. "Deltas!" the woman called, reaching around Martha to push the door open. "We have an eavesdropper."

"An unliberated eavesdropper?" Delta Four asked.

"Yes," the new woman said. "Beta Three can come out of stasis. She will be delighted."

"Now look, I don't think you should rush into any decisions _just_ yet," Martha interrupted, glancing towards the door and keeping down her frustration when she realised that it was blocked by the woman who had caught her out.

"Oh but Beta Three has been waiting for a form for _so_ long, hasn't she, Delta Five?"

"She has indeed. Now, let me see..." she rummaged through her handbag and pulled out a bottle of perfume. "Ah yes! Here we are!" she sprayed the perfume in Martha's face and the last thing Martha remembered was a clinical smell, not unlike the smell of disinfectant.

* * *

**To be continued.**


	2. Part Two

**One More for the Road.**

**by Flaignhan.**

* * *

Part Two.

The Doctor was sitting at the bar, swirling the contents of his glass around, looking towards the bathroom door every few seconds, waiting for Martha to emerge. He glanced at the clock on the wall and downed the last of his scotch, deciding to take action. Surely Martha didn't need fifteen whole minutes in the bathroom, did she?

The Doctor stood up and was about to move towards the bathroom so he could knock on the door and call out to Martha, to see if she was all right when a large man sidled up to him.

"You with the dark brawd?"

"If you mean Martha then use her name," the Doctor growled, gritting his teeth.

"Yeah, that was it, Martha. She's feeling ill in the bathroom, my wife's taking care of her, but...Martha, you say? Well she wanted to let you know why she weren't back yet."

"Right," the Doctor replied, unconvinced. "Well maybe I should take her home if she's unwell -"

"No need! My wife'll take good care of her, you'll see. Can I get you a drink?"

"I...yeah..." the Doctor replied, his gaze lingering on the bathroom door suspiciously. "Yeah, I'll have a scotch, thanks."

"Comin' up! So, from England, huh?"

"Yep," the Doctor lied. He frowned as the bartender served up the drinks. "What's that you've got there?" he asked curiously, nodding towards the luminous drink that had been presented along with his scotch.

"It's a special brew," the man told him. The Doctor looked around the room and saw a similar sort of drink in the hands of many of the guests.

"Certainly seems popular..." The man gave him a tight smile and the Doctor noticed that his eyes seemed to slide in and out of focus, just for an instant.

* * *

Martha's head felt fuzzy when she awoke. It took her a few minutes for her eyes to adjust to the light, and then a few more for her to vaguely recall what had happened. She looked around and saw that there was a man in the room with her, pulling a fresh white shirt over his head. She sat up and the man turned around at the noise. Her eyes widened when she realised that it was Frank Sinatra himself. 

Except he wasn't quite himself.

"Now sweetheart, don't go making a fuss, this won't hurt a bit. Beta Three will take good care of your form while she's inhabiting it, so don't worry your pretty little head about it."

"Look," Martha began, "I've got a friend, he can -"

"Your friend is going to play host as well, it'll be fine. We'll take you to the stasis pods after dark and then the transfer can take place."

"No but he can -" A man around Martha's age peered around the door.

"Alpha One, they're waiting," Alpha One winked at her.

"That's my cue, sweetheart, the show must go on." He tied his tie properly, slipped on his jacket, adjusted his cufflinks and left the room, locking the door behind him.

Martha sighed and helped herself to a glass of water, assuming that the aliens wouldn't miss it if their jug was a little less full when they returned. She looked around, and was rather pleased to notice that her bag had been left neatly on the floor next to the sofa. Once she felt refreshed and her head had cleared a little, she looked around the room, trying to pull together an escape plan. Her eyes landed on a walk-in wardrobe, and she wondered whether it was also a walk-out wardrobe.

* * *

The interval was over, but the Doctor was still sitting at the bar, accepting drinks from Leopold, trying to deduce what was going on. Martha still hadn't returned, and he didn't believe for a second that even the plague would keep her in the bathroom for this long, not when 'Fly me to the Moon' was in full swing, anyway. 

He felt the hairs prickle on the back of his neck and he twisted around on his stool, under the pretence of watching the show. It took a while for him to spot her because she was so well hidden, but once he had it was clear that she hadn't been ill at all, not even for a second. Not that he'd believed it of course – it was a shoddy cover story, even by human standards. Martha was mouthing something to him and he narrowed his eyes, trying to make it out.

"Aliens!" He gave her the tiniest of nods to show that he'd finally understood and she disappeared from sight.

"I'm just going to get some fresh air, Leo, bit smoky in here..."

"You're not a cigar man, then?"

"Nah, they're banned in public places back in England, apparently they're unhealthy."

"Sounds like a bunch of baloney to me!"

"No, baloney's all right, you can have that. Just not the cigars. Anyway, I'll be back in a while."

"You want some company, Doc?"

"Nah, just a bit of fresh air. You enjoy the music." And with that the Doctor swept through the crowd towards the exit.

Once he was out in the humid night air, he looked to his right for a stage door. He jogged down the side of the building and finally found a fire exit which might lead backstage. The Doctor looked around for any onlookers as he carefully pulled his Sonic Screwdriver out of his pocket and unlocked the door. He pushed it open gently and stepped inside, closing it behind him. He was quite certain he was behind the stage now, as the music sounded muffled. There was a long corridor ahead of him and he began to walk briskly along it.

After he'd been walking for a few moments, he heard the distinctive sound of high heeled shoes clacking against the floor. He immediately flattened himself against the wall, lowering himself behind a rail of shirts and jackets. He shifted the clothes so he could see who was drawing close and jumped up with a grin plastered over his face when he saw it was Martha.

She managed to hold in a scream and took a few shaky breaths as he pulled her into a hug. "You all right?" he asked quietly. She wrinkled her nose.

"You absolutely reek. How much have you had to drink?"

"Yep, you're fine!" he took her by the hand and pulled her down the corridor, looking around for any signs of the as yet unnamed aliens. The Doctor pressed his ear against a door and Martha waited patiently at his side. Finally, he zapped it with his Sonic Screwdriver and pushed the door open, placing his hand on the small of Martha's back and guiding her gently into the room. Once they were inside, he locked the door with another zap from the Sonic Screwdriver and collapsed onto a sofa, Martha falling neatly into place next to him.

"This is like the room I was in," she told him. "You can get in and out through the wardrobes; they go through to the next rooms."

"Who are they then? What do they want?" Martha shrugged. "What, you didn't hear anything?"

"Do bare in mind that I was knocked out," Martha replied testily. "My memory's bound to be a bit hazy." The Doctor bit back a trite remark about human brains before he spoke again.

"D'you remember _anything_ though?"

"Well for a start I'm the only human in this building," Martha told him, the phrase sounding even odder than usual, considering that she was on Earth. "And they've inhabited the bodies of everyone here. They said they'll be gone by the close of the decade though."

"Yeah, but that's another eight years, we can't just wait it out."

"They're all called Alpha One or Delta Four, stuff like that, if that helps?"

"Ok, so they're most likely a uniform race, all look the same, all given names according to importance..."

"How d'you know it's importance? Why not just their birthdays or how old they are?"

"The only race that _I'm_ aware of that goes by birthdays or age for names can't switch forms. And you know, Alpha male, all that stuff, it's just how it is." He sat forward and rubbed his chin as his brain worked frantically; trying to draw a logical conclusion from the information Martha had given him. Finally it hit him. "Ohh..."

"What?" Martha asked as he sat back and ran a hand through his hair.

"Of course!" Martha rolled her eyes, still waiting for an explanation. "You said they'd be gone by the end of the decade!"

"Yeah," Martha replied, clearly not seeing the significance.

"Oh come _on_, Martha! What's the most important thing that happens in the sixties? Course it's not a big deal to you, because you've been there, seen it, done it, and you probably would have got the t-shirt if they'd had a shop open there -"

"The moon landing? What's that got to do with this lot?"

"Peter Lawford! JFK's brother-in-law! Perfectly placed to receive information about NASA! You said they want to get out of here, so they'll probably get some folk onto the ship, land it on the moon, send out a distress signal and wait for their lot to come and pick them up!"

"But if they can get close to Kennedy why don't they -" Martha didn't get to finish her question due to the Doctor's habit of interrupting people.

"Nah! They'd have to infiltrate the whole government to do that, and I don't think they could be bothered to run an entire country while they're here. No, they'll just enjoy the highlife and jet off home when they're good and ready."

"Why didn't they just stay on their ship and send out a distress signal from there?" Martha asked. "It must still be working, cos Frank said they were gonna take me to the stasis pods after dark."

"Sounds like you've pulled," the Doctor joked, before he took note of Martha's glare and answered her properly. "Not strong enough, most likely. Might be using all the power to keep the stasis pods going, the signal'd probably get intercepted anyway and people would start ferreting around. No, send out a signal in space and Earth can't pick it up."

"So what do we do?" asked Martha.

"What do you think we should do?"

"Well, depends on whether they try to knock me out again, doesn't it?" the Doctor laughed and Martha smiled.

"The show'll be over soon, we'll have a chat and find out if they're a friendly bunch."

"So we just wait?" Martha asked.

"Yep!"

"We don't go back and watch the show?"

"Nope! Besides! You're supposed to be held captive, and you'd draw the wrong sort of attention if we went back and started dancing." Martha didn't say anything, clearly disappointed that they were going to miss out on the rest of the show. "It's not even the real thing, it's aliens," the Doctor reasoned gently, "and we can still hear it in here."

"It doesn't matter," Martha replied. "I don't even like this one," she lied, folding her arms and sitting back, eyes staring at a painting on the opposite wall as the muffled sounds of 'Mr Bojangles' seeped into the room.

"What d'you reckon to Snow Patrol?" the Doctor asked after a short while, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "Isle of Wight festival? Fancy that?"

"Maybe," Martha answered. She'd actually been gutted when she couldn't get tickets, but she wasn't about to tell him that. No, she'd wait until she'd heard a perfect rendition of 'Chasing Cars' before she thanked him completely.

"Well if you'd rather go and see Metallica -"

"No!" Martha said quickly. "I mean...Metallica aren't my sort of thing. I don't mind Snow Patrol though." The Doctor smiled knowingly but the smile disappeared in an instant as the sound of a key being inserted into a lock and being twisted interrupted them.

* * *

**To be continued.**


	3. Part Three

**One More for the Road.**

**by Flaignhan**

* * *

Part Three.

"What do we do?" Martha whispered urgently. The Doctor shrugged and Martha sighed exasperatedly.

"Just – just follow my lead," he told her, standing up to greet their visitor. Martha did as she was told and stood up too as the door swung open, revealing a young man with a clean white shirt in his hands. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsure of what to say to these newcomers, but the Doctor made things easier for him.

"Hello!" he said cheerfully, moving forward to shake the man's hand. "I'm the Doctor, and you are?"

"Gamma Seven – I mean – Jerry, my name's Jerry."

"And what species are you, Gamma Seven?" the Doctor asked, completely ignoring the false name that had been so haphazardly provided.

"Tedrian," he answered. Martha thought this was all too easy, but she supposed, if he was Gamma Seven he wouldn't be too high up on the list of importance, and getting information from him would be like taking candy from a baby.

"You're Tedrian!" the Doctor exclaimed delightedly. "Oh brilliant! I haven't seen one of you lot in a good few hundred years!"

"I think I should get Mr Sinatra," Gamma Seven said hurriedly before he rushed from the room.

"Well, I think that went well, don't you?" the Doctor asked, turning to Martha.

"Depends, what's the next move?"

"Blimey! You don't half need to learn to live in the moment! All this 'what do we do now' stuff, it's not good for you, you know."

"Well someone's got to think ahead, and I know it won't be you. So what are we going to do?"

"I thought you were the one thinking ahead," the Doctor commented. Martha glared and he continued. "Well, I'm sure I could get their ship up and running again, if they're nice, that is."

"And if not?"

"I'll give them the benefit of the doubt – ah, Frankie! Or should I say Alpha One?" Gamma Seven had returned with Alpha One, who offered a tight smile.

"Doctor, this is no business of yours, you should leave before things become messy."

"Oh come now! That's no way to speak to a man with a Sonic Screwdriver! Whatever's wrong with your ship, I'm ninety-nine percent sure that this little baby can fix it," he waved the Sonic Screwdriver in front of Alpha One's face, and his expression changed rather abruptly.

"And what would you know of Tedrian technology?"

"Only just about everything," the Doctor replied with only a slight bit of arrogance.

"And how have you come to know this?" Alpha One asked, rather than demanded, as he had when he'd asked the previous question. Martha grinned. She loved watching the Doctor mess with hostile people as though they were plasticine, moulding them into rather amiable folk with just a few polite words.

"Oh, well, the short answer is that I'm brilliant!"

"And he's had an extra dose of egotism today," Martha commented.

"Oi! We can give Isle of Wight a miss if you like!" Martha held back a smile as his voice catapulted into the higher and more indignant notes and the Doctor turned back to Alpha One, a disapproving frown on his face.

"Right, Alphie, can I call you Alphie?" the Doctor didn't wait for an answer, just slung his arm around Alpha One's shoulder and led him off down the corridor, discussing plans for fixing the Tedrian ship, leaving Martha behind with Gamma Seven.

"So...what's it like where you come from?" she asked curiously.

"Oh it's _wonderful_, Miss. The sky is golden and the winged ones soar through it all day long and we all watch them from the ground." Martha smiled.

"Tell me more," she said.

* * *

Half an hour later, Martha was sitting next to the Doctor on a bus which was heading out into the desert. All of the Tedrians had been loaded onto it after Alpha One had flagged down another Tedrian who was working as a bus driver during their stay. 

"Has this ever happened before?" Martha asked.

"Has what ever happened before?"

"You know, you offering to help them get home and they take you up on the offer. Always seems like they refuse and you have to teach them a lesson."

"Well...it's rare, but it does happen sometimes. Makes a nice change, don't you think? _And_ they even apologised for drugging you! Turning out rather nicely, isn't it?" Martha reached into her bag and pressed a packet of mints into his hand.

"Seriously, have one of those or I'm moving seats."

"Oh it's only whiskey! You're a big girl, you can handle it!" Martha leaned away from him as he spoke to her.

"Not when it smells like you've been swimming in the stuff, how many did you have?"

"Ohh...only a few," the Doctor answered, tearing the paper away from the tube of mints so he could get one out easily. Martha raised an eyebrow. "Well maybe it was a bit more than a few, but it doesn't matter, cos it doesn't affect me like it affects you lot." He tossed the mints back to Martha and she caught them, putting them back in her bag. "Ooh, we're slowing down," he noted, the mint obscuring his speech slightly.

"Are we?" Martha asked, squinting out the window to try and see any sign of a spaceship in the darkness.

"Just a tiny bit, yeah...must be drawing close." He looked over to Martha. "You won't be able to see it," he told her, "they'll have hidden it away properly, especially if there's still Tedrians on board." Martha turned away from the window and let her attention fall on the Doctor, who was crunching his mint loudly.

"Can I have another one?" he asked after swallowing down the minty fragments of his previous sweet. Martha smiled, handed over her bag and watched as he rummaged through it for the mints.

* * *

"This one?" 

"No, the red one." Martha passed over a fat red cable and the Doctor connected it to a large piece of machinery.

"It's a bit chilly for the desert, don't you think?"

"They have to keep it cool for the Tedrians in the stasis pods," the Doctor told her as he took off his jacket and threw it to her before crawling under a generator of some sort.

"What d'you want me to do with this?" Martha asked, holding his jacket up even though he couldn't see it.

"Put it on, you said you're cold."

"Oh," Martha replied, slightly surprised as she slipped the jacket on. She'd not expected that. She thought he just wanted her to hang it up so it didn't get oily, but apparently it was a gentlemanly gesture. Martha committed it to memory – this particular sort of gesture didn't make frequent appearances. Her attention was caught by the Sonic Screwdriver as it skidded out from under the generator.

"Setting twenty-two, go along the black cable coming out of this with it, I think there's a loose connection in there somewhere..." Martha did as she was told, finally springing back from the cable in surprise as the generator burst into life. "Oh a round of applause if you please!" the Doctor said happily as he emerged from under the generator, a broad smile spread across his face, bow tie undone and hanging loosely around his neck. "Now, just have to give the engines a quick once over, check the fuel replicator and they'll be all set to head off home!" Martha grinned and followed him over to the engines as he rolled his sleeves up, unable to do much but watch or follow the odd simple instruction every now and then.

"Blimey, these engines are retro! I love it!"

"Is that a polite way of saying they're old and out of fashion?"

"Yep!" the Doctor replied. "But I've never been one to follow fashion anyway – argh!" His yelp was followed by a few choice words in a language the Tardis hadn't translated for her.

"What's wrong?" Martha asked, squatting down so she could see him better. He wriggled out from the small gap under the engines holding his hand.

"It cut me! Those flipping engines are rubbish! A complete and utter death trap!" Martha smiled fondly as she pulled a packet of tissues out of her bag. After she had wiped away the small pool of blood that had collected in his hand she looked around the maintenance room for something she could clean his cut with. When nothing presented itself to her, Martha spat into the tissue in the most lady-like way she could and began to clean the Doctor's cut.

"Miss Jones, are you not a medical student?"

"It's retro," she told him innocently.

"And how do you know I don't react badly to human saliva?"

"You didn't react too badly to that genetic transfer..." Martha told him distractedly. She pulled a fresh tissue out of the packet, laid it across the cut before taking her hair band out of her hair and tying it around the tissue to keep it in place. "There, that'll have to do until we get back to the Tardis, now be careful! I'm not a travelling first aid kit, after all." The Doctor grinned and shuffled back under the engines, ready to finish what he'd started and get the ship up in the air.

Finally, after he had completed his work on the engines and fixed a few glitches with the fuel replicator, the Doctor took Martha by the hand and led her back to the stasis room, where the Tedrians were preparing to transfer back into their original bodies. Alpha One stepped forward.

"Thank you, Doctor," he said, shaking the Doctor's hand. "And you too, Miss Jones. We can now go back to where we belong after far too many years of being out of place."

"Oh it was nothing, Alphie; you have a safe journey back."

"We hope to, Doctor. It's probably best if you wait outside whilst the transfer takes place, it can be damaging to human eyes."

"Will the people be all right?" Martha asked, "Will it hurt their eyes?"

"No," Alpha One answered, "They will be in stasis while the change takes place, they will not be harmed." Martha seemed satisfied with this answer but had another question.

"But what about their memories? They won't just wake up in the desert with no recollection of the last few years, will they?"

"They will keep their memories, and I'm sure the Doctor will inform them on the importance of keeping their silence." The Doctor nodded, gave a small smile, and led Martha from the ship, out into the desert where they would wait on the bus.

People soon began to drift back onto the bus looking slightly worse for wear, but nevertheless unharmed as promised. Once the bus was full, the Doctor stood up to address the passengers. "Oi! Listen up!" Everybody stopped talking at once. "Now look, I know this has all been a bit...well, out of the ordinary, but don't go blabbing, eh? Everyone's fine and you can go back to your lives and carry on as normal, all right?" There was a small murmur of acceptance from the passengers. "Fantastic! Now we've got that sorted, we can start to head -"

"Doctor, it's taking off!" the Doctor ran to the window which Martha was peering out of and they watched happily as the spaceship took off in a blinding flash of light, shooting up into the sky at impossible speeds. The Doctor began to laugh triumphantly as it became a pinprick of light amongst the stars.

The bus driver, now with his own original mind returned, drove them back towards the city. Martha had expressed concerns to the Doctor about his capability to drive after what had happened, but the Doctor had brushed them off saying that at worst they'd crash into a cactus.

When they arrived back at the club, everybody got off the bus quickly and milled around outside, unsure what to do next. "Well I think there's a show that needs to be finished," Dean said loudly, looking towards his fellow performers. People began to smile and made their way into the club, anxious for some relaxing music after their ordeal. Martha stepped forwards towards the club, but the Doctor held her back. She turned to look at him quizzically and he shook his head, before guiding her back to the alleyway where the Tardis was parked.

Martha yanked her hand out of his and walked ahead, annoyed that he had pulled her away from the fun. She slammed the door of the Tardis when she got inside and paced around angrily, waiting for him to join her. When he did, he hadn't even closed the door before she started on her rant.

"You always do this! You never hang around to enjoy yourself! You save the day and then you're off to another place in another time. Are we so boring that you can't stand being with us for that long? Are you so arrogant that you can't enjoy a bit of music after you've saved the day? Oh no, you're the Doctor, you have much more important things to be -"

"D'you think any of them were going to give a good performance?" he asked her, his tone even. Martha didn't say anything. "I didn't want your last memories of the Rat Pack to be of some dodgy out of tune song where they're all getting the words wrong because their heads have been messed with. I just thought...well, doesn't matter." Martha looked at the ground, feeling slightly ashamed of herself. She slipped his jacket off and hung it over the rail, not knowing quite what to say.

She didn't need to say anything though, because the Doctor flicked a few switches and the silence was replaced by the sound of a piano. He walked over to where she was standing and took her hand in his makeshift-bandaged one, leading her away from the railings so they had room to dance. Martha let her head rest against his shoulder and noticed that he smelled faintly of alcohol.

"You still smell," she told him.

"Probably," he replied.

* * *

_It's quarter to three  
__There's no one in the place  
_'_Cept you and me  
__So set 'em up Joe  
__I've got a little story  
__You oughtta know_

_We're drinking my friends  
__To the end of a brief episode  
__Make it one for my baby  
__And one more for the road_

_I got the routine  
__Put another nickel  
__In the machine  
__Feeling so bad  
__Can't you make the music  
__Easy or sad_

_I could tell you a lot  
__But you gotta be true to your code  
__Make it one for my baby  
__And one more for the road_

_You'd never know it  
__But buddy I'm a kind of poet  
__And I got a lot of things I'd like to say  
__And when I'm lonely  
__Won't you listen to me  
__Till it's talked away_

_Well that's how it goes  
__And Joe I know you're getting  
__Anxious to close  
__So thanks for the cheer  
__I hope you didn't mind  
__My bending your ear_

_But this torch that I've found  
__Has gotta be drowned o__r it soon might explode  
__So make it one for my baby  
And one more for the road_

* * *

**The End.**


End file.
